Without Darcy: A Christmas Story
by RafeDurk
Summary: A holiday tale of how a single person changes the lives of all those around them. Based on the central idea of Its a Wonderful Life.
1. Chapter 1

I intend this to be a low angst tale (by my standards, which might count as moderate for some of you) based loosely around the central idea of _It's__ a __Wonderful __Life._It's short, about 10K words, and I'll probably post in three parts. Thanks to Lisa for encouraging this random flight of fancy brought on by watching a Muppet spoof of the classic Christmas movie. No one has checked my grammar, so all mistakes, especially comma abuse, are mine!

I hope that you all have a happy holiday season, whatever holiday you celebrate.

**Without**** Darcy:**** A**** Christmas**** Story**

**Chapter****1**

The Yule log sat in the fireplace ready to be lit, Darcy house was festooned with holly and hung with other festive decorations, and Georgiana was playing a joyful carol on the pianoforte, but Fitzwilliam Darcy could not find any joy in his heart this Christmas Eve. He had imagined that this year he would be spending Christmas together with his wife, Elizabeth Darcy née Bennet, and he could not resign himself to the knowledge that the vision he had so treasured would never come to pass. No, Elizabeth would never forgive him for failing to warn the neighborhood about Wickham's perfidy and thus allowing her youngest sister to become his victim. He did not blame Elizabeth for this, for he could not forgive himself.

What was worse was the recognition that he had also wronged Miss Bennet and Charles by failing to confess his actions in separating them. He should have convinced Charles to return to Hertfordshire, and once he was certain he would not be giving his friend false hope, he should have confessed that he was mistaken in declaring Miss Bennet indifferent. Only to have done so would have required facing Elizabeth, and Darcy did not think he could withstand being rebuffed by her again. So he had held his peace in the face of his friend's still subdued spirits.

Without realizing what he was doing, Darcy had extracted a bit of dried lavender from the bowl of potpourri next to his chair. In so doing he crushed some of the blooms, releasing their fragrance and alerting him to his actions. The scent reminded him of Elizabeth, and he felt a pang of sadness. Abruptly, Darcy found he could not bear maintaining a pleasant façade in company, and he excused himself from the room, shoving the partially crushed flower into his fob pocket as he went. He did not even call for his greatcoat or gloves but walked outside in his dinner attire. It had snowed earlier that day, but the snow was not deep and the paths around the small garden had already been cleared. Driven by self-reproach, he strode through the barren garden heedless of both the dark and the cold.

In the past two years, he had managed to fail a startling number of those closest to him. He had not been diligent enough in checking Mrs. Younge's references before he hired her. That made it ultimately his fault that Wickham had enough access to Georgiana to convince her to elope with him. Then, he had allowed his desire to flee the bewitching presence of Elizabeth Bennet to bias his judgment about the state of Miss Bennet's feelings. Yes, Miss Bennet was very reserved, but had he not been so desperate to flee the county he might have been inclined to merely urge Bingley to proceed with caution rather than declaring that Miss Bennet did not return his love.

Finally, there was Elizabeth. He had failed Elizabeth twice. The first time was with his insulting proposal. He could not have truly loved her then, or he should never have been able to insult her so thoroughly while at the same time assuming she would accept him. Then, even after he knew that Wickham had been spreading his usual lies and was believed by the neighborhood, he had not taken action to protect the neighborhood. Some might say that it was not his duty, but he knew that had he spoken out, Elizabeth's younger sister would have been saved from her fate as Wickham's wife.

Brooding over his failings had darkened Darcy's mood even further and he expressed himself by aiming a kick at a small stone lying in the path. Instead of hearing the thud of its landing, however, he heard an oomph followed by a groan.

"Hello? Who is there? Are you injured?" _Hitting__ unknown __people__ with __stones, __one __more__ crime__ to__ add__ to__ my __name,_Darcy thought as he walked toward the noise.

An older man stepped out onto the path from among shrubbery. He was dressed in serviceable work clothes, the kind worn by most of Darcy's tenants at Pemberley as well as by those of his servants both at Pemberley and in London who were employed to perform tasks outside the house. Given his previous location, Darcy presumed he was a gardener.

"Forgive me, I did not expect anyone to be out here at this hour. I hope you are not hurt."

"Tis nothing, sir. Like as not, it will barely bruise. 'Twasn't a big stone." The man rubbed his thigh with one hand and while proffering the offending rock to Darcy with the other. Darcy took it automatically. At least the rock had not contacted the man's head.

"If it is an impediment in performing your duties, do not hesitate to come forward. I would not have you exacerbate an injury I caused." The man nodded and thanked Darcy, who had just realized that he did not know the man's name. He normally prided himself on knowing the names of all his servants. Hoping the man would not be offended, Darcy inquired as to his name.

"My name's Clarence," the man answered Darcy without sign of resentment at being forgotten.

"Why are you in the gardens at this time of night, Clarence? I cannot imagine that there is anything urgent to accomplish here, certainly not in this weather."

"No, sir. It's just, well, my wife and I had a disagreement. I always think better in the gardens, and I figured it would do no harm for me to do some work while I thought on how to mend matters between us. I meant no harm, sir."

Darcy assured Clarence that he would not be punished for being in the gardens when he technically should not have been. "If only my problems could be solved by a walk and an hour of work," Darcy mused. He normally did not air his troubles in front of the servants, but for some reason he felt inclined him to speak more freely than usual. "But all of the problems are of my own making, and I doubt I have the skill to right the wrongs I have inflicted on others. Likely I would only make matters worse."

"I am sure it is not as bad as all that. You have seen your people through difficult times before, you will manage this as well."

Darcy sighed heavily. "I doubt it. My actions have brought pain to many who did not deserve it. It would have been better for those I love that I had never been born."

"I doubt that, sir," Clarence said reasonably, but Darcy had latched onto that thought with unusual fervor.

"I do not. They would be better off without me meddling in their affairs, and still better had I never been born."

Now it was Clarence's turn to sigh. "I do hate this part of the job," he said under his breath.

"What?"

"Mr. Darcy, as your guardian angel I was sent out here tonight to comfort you."

"Guardian angel? My guardian angel is a gardener?"

"No, your guardian angel is _dressed _as a gardener for the purpose of this conversation." There was a flash of white light and the gardener's garb vanished and was replaced by an outfit not unlike Darcy's but entirely in white. "Seeing as you seem determined not to be comforted, I shall now grant your stated desire."

Darcy answered this statement with a confused look, and Clarence continued, "You wish you had never been born." He snapped his fingers and there was another, brighter flash of light that encompassed not just Clarence but the entire garden and beyond. "Very well, you have now never been born. None of your family or acquaintances will know you. You are nobody. Go, observe, and tell me if you think the world is a better place without you." And so saying, Clarence vanished. His voice, however continued, "If you have need of me, you have only to call. I shall be near."

Bewildered, Darcy stood rooted to the spot for several minutes. Had he drunk too much tonight? Or perhaps it was all a dream? He looked down at the rock he still held in his hand. It wasn't a dream! He dropped the rock back to the path as though it was at fault for his current predicament. But it could not be true; it was not possible to completely erase a human being from existence like that.

Darcy entered the manor still pondering the meaning of his encounter with Clarence. He stopped short two steps into the house, stunned by the change that had been effected in the span of a few minutes. Gone were all the decorations and in there place was the black of mourning. What had happened? Who had died?

Thinking to rejoin his sister, he walked toward the music room all the while noting the other changes that had taken place. Not only was the house hung with black, but most of the furnishings had been changed. He had never cared much for wasting money to follow the latest whims of the _ton_, but he had made certain that his furniture was elegant and functional. The halls he strode down now, however, were devoid of decoration, and the furnishings were worn and woefully out of date. In the music room, the piano he had bought for Georgiana several years ago was absent and in its place was one he remembered from much younger days. But that piano had been replaced nearly twenty years ago, he recalled. The furniture, likewise consisted of pieces he recollected from before his mother's passing, with the exception of several items that believed had been stored in the attics even before his birth. Everything he saw spoke of an estate in financial ruin.

"Ho there! What do you think you are doing?"

Darcy turned to face a burly footman in shabby livery standing slightly in front of his butler Mr. Hobbs. He did not recognize the footman, but the real surprise was that neither the footman nor the butler seemed to recognize him. "I am looking for Miss Darcy," he answered with all the authority his confusion would allow him to muster.

The faces of both men darkened, but it was Mr. Hobbs who answered "You will make no friends here with poor jokes like that. I don't know how you got into the house, but you are leaving now. I'll not have any man disgracing the memory of Mrs. Wickham."

Darcy felt the blood drain from his face. "Mrs. Wickham? She married that cad?"

At a gesture from Mr. Hobbs, the footman stepped forward and grabbed Darcy's arm. Again it was Hobbs that spoke. "_That__ cad, _as you call him, was her guardian and is now the master of this house. You had best watch your tongue."

"Let me speak to her. This is a misunderstanding, I must speak with my sister," but Darcy was already being dragged toward the front doors.

"Mrs. Wickham had no brother, more's the pity. And she will never speak to anyone ever again," Hobbs indicated the black drapings."

"Mr. Wickham, then." Darcy realized he was desperate if he was begging to speak to Mr. Wickham, but he had to know what was happening. Georgiana was dead and Wickham was master of Pemberley? Unthinkable.

They had reached the foyer where several footmen had gathered to gawp at the sight of an intruder to the house. "Mrs. Simon!" Darcy called to his housekeeper when he saw her face in the small crowd. "Surely you remember me? Please, you must tell me what has happened here." He tried to approach her, but was pulled back sharply by the footman. Instead of answering him, Mrs. Simons took a step back, apparently frightened by his address.

Someone had opened the door and Darcy felt himself being shoved roughly out through the portal. He stumbled on the stairs and tumbled down the last two, landing painfully on his side. Mr. Hobbs called after him, "If I see you again, your removal from this house won't be nearly as pleasant." With that the door slammed, shutting him out of his own home.

* * *

><p>I did say low angst <em>for <em>_me_ didn't I? Oh, dear. Darcy is outside on the streets of London on Christmas Eve without a jacket, and no one will recognize him because he's never been born. I think I'd invite him into my place to stay warm. How about you? Review and let me know


	2. Chapter 2

Here is Part the Second. Once again, all grammatical errors are mine. Since I am apparently a poor judge of angst, I shall make no judgements on this chapter. However, Georgiana is not the only one affected by Darcy's absence from the world so naturally he's got a bit more to learn.

**Chapter 2**

Darcy shivered as he walked away from the building that had been his home. He did not relish the idea of being out alone in London at night, and the cold weather was not making him any more comfortable with the prospect. With no appropriate coat and no money to secure himself a room in an inn, it was likely that he would freeze to death. The other likely outcome of a night on the streets, being attacked by some ruffians and left for dead, was not particularly heartening either, and he did his best not to dwell on the possibility. It was scant comfort to know that, except for his watch and his signet ring, he had little worth stealing on his person at the moment.

As he thought of those two treasured possessions, his hand moved to touch both objects in turn only to discover that something was wrong. The watch attached to his fob was smaller than it should be, and the ring was entirely the wrong shape! His hand probed his fob pocket further; even the sprig of lavender he had placed there was missing now!

"Your father never gave you a watch because you were never born, remember?" Darcy startled when Clarence spoke from beside him. The angel had just appeared out of nowhere. He held out a warm coat "Here, you'll need this; it's cold in London in December, you know. There's some coin in the pocket, not much but enough to buy you some food and drink. It should be sufficient for a room as well, but it is Christmas Eve after all, I do not think there is any room in the inn. At least not at any inn you would wish to sleep in."

"What is going on?" Darcy demanded. "What happened to my sister?"

"I told you earlier: you have never been born. As to Miss Darcy, I do not think you would believe me. Perhaps you should ask one of the servants." He gestured down the alley that led to the mews. "I believe you will find several of them gossiping near the stables."

"Why can you not simply tell—" but Clarence was gone.

Darcy donned the coat, grateful to have some insulation against the night. In the pockets he found a pair of gloves, a scarf, a warm woolen cap, and the purse Clarence had said he'd find. Now if only Clarence would give him the answers he sought as well. Even with the warmer clothes, Darcy could still feel the chill in the air, but he recognized that he was in a much better state with them than he had been without.

Doing his best not to make any noise, Darcy made his way down the alley towards his—or rather Wickham's—stables. Just as Clarence had said, there were several men standing just outside the stable speaking in low voices. Only it was not the kind of talk he had expected. More than once he had heard snatches of conversation between his servants when they were unaware of his proximity, and more often than not the conversation centered on members of the opposite sex or plans for how they might spend their wages. These men were talking about their work, specifically their master. In a few minutes Darcy was able to gather that Wickham was in the habit of staying out very late, returning at erratic hours, and being exceedingly displeased if he was not attended instantly upon his return. These three men were awake and in the cold because of Wickham's disdain for their comfort or even their health. It was little wonder they grumbled about their duties.

Knowing that he could not approach these men and be accepted into general conversation, Darcy stayed hidden in the shadows, hoping that by blessed chance the conversation would turn to Georgiana before he lost all feeling in his fingers and toes.

One man raised the topic of how he had wished to visit his parents for the holiday but had been denied, and this led to a general discussion of the season.

"Not much festive spirit in this house," one observed.

"We're mourning the mistress. What did you expect?" chided another.

"Yeah. _We_ mourn the mistress while her husband spends her money and ruins the estate."

"Hush. One of his men might hear you."

"Nah, all of his men are either asleep or on duty in the warm. They won't bother with the likes of us."

"He's right. And I reckon you, me, and everybody else rues the day they married and we stopped working for the Darcys and started working for Mr. Wickham."

"Why did she accept him? She could've had a lord, why'd she take the steward's son."

"He kept her away from other men after Mr. Darcy died. Said it was for her own good, but I reckon he had this planned all along."

"He couldn't have planned that she would die birthing his heir."

"No."

"Mind you, she was so miserable those last months that I reckon she's better off where she is than she would be as his wife."

There were several grunts of agreement.

"But he could at least have the decency to grieve for longer than it took to arrange her funeral."

"Nah, rules like that don't apply to rich men unless they choose to follow them. Mark my words, he'll run about until the estate is broke, then like as not he'll marry another heiress and do the same to her."

Darcy had heard enough. Not caring for stealth anymore, he stormed along the alley back to the street, and across it into Hyde Park. When he was certain he was alone, he called out, "Clarence! Where are you. Why did Samuel not stop this travesty?"

Clarence appeared in front of Darcy as he spoke and answered calmly, "Why would you expect your cousin to do that? Without you there to counterbalance the influence of his elder brother and George Wickham, Samuel became as bad as they are. Worse, at times. Come, you are dressed well enough for a formal gathering, I doubt any will notice one more well dressed gentleman where we are going."

This time, instead of simply pointing Darcy in the right direction, Clarence led him directly to a house maybe half a mile away. Darcy recognized the building, it belonged to Samuel's elder brother, Lord Whitten, and had been gifted to him upon his marriage. He said something to the footman at the door, and the man waved Darcy inside. Though he had hoped Clarence would accompany him, Darcy was unsurprised when he did not.

It was easy to why Clarence was so certain Darcy would not be noticed in the crush. The house thronged with people, and from what Darcy could see, the gathering was bordering on scandalous. He saw several couples flirting shamelessly, and the attire was rather more scandalous than you would see among the more respectable members of the _ton._ He accepted a drink from a passing servant so that he might blend in with the crowd, but he only took one sip. He had never liked whiskey punch, and this one was more whiskey than punch, making it even more distasteful.

Darcy wandered the rooms slowly, looking to understand why Clarence had brought him here. He saw Bingley dancing a waltz in the ballroom. It was risque, but not completely unheard of, and his friend did love to dance, so Darcy moved on assuming that there was something else he needed to see. He found it in the card room, where Wickham and Samuel were standing, observing the various games with the sharp eyes of gamesters sizing up their competition.

As Darcy approached, he saw Samuel laugh. "Why should I wish to do that? My silent excuse for a wife waits at home to welcome me with all the warmth and charm of a statue. If I had not need of an heir, I would not even bother with her as much as I do. And the Great and Mighty Lady Catherine is ever near, waiting to remind me who it is that saved me from a life in the army and to attempt to browbeat me into behaving as though _she_ were still the ruler of Rosings, not I. I have more than enough time for a few more games!"

Darcy was only mildly surprised to learn that his cousin was married to Anne. It would be only natural for Lady Catherine to fix on another nephew in her marriage schemes, to say nothing of the fact that the Samuel he knew would not consider marriage to his cousin a hardship at all. That Samuel doted on his cousin Anne. If Lady Catherine ever stopped insisting that Anne would wed no one other than Darcy, Samuel would have married his cousin in a heartbeat to out of both affection and a desire to shield her from her overbearing mother.

"Do you not have time for other diversions as well?" Wickham asked, leering at a particularly well-endowed woman.

"Of course, my friend. Of course. But later. Now, I think that young Lord Casewell is in need of an opponent or two. Shall we oblige and lighten his purse?"

"I think, for that game you would do better to seek your brother's aid," Wickham nodded to Lord Whitten. "I believe Bingley is planning a liaison with the delectable Miss Bennet tonight, and I am of a mind to try to convince her sister that is is in her best interest accept my offer."

"Ah, the lovely Miss Elizabeth. I wish you the best of luck, old friend."

Darcy's blood was running cold. No wonder Samuel had not stopped the wedding; he and Wickham were the best of friends and he likely saw no need to oppose the match. Perhaps he even approved of it, as it would raise his friend to his own social sphere. Blast it, had he no care for his cousin? But clearly the answer to that was no, for he was coldly dismissive of Anne. Worse than that, he was encouraging Wickham to offer for Elizabeth, and Darcy knew it was unlikely that he meant to offer marriage. Blast! He must follow them and attempt to protect Elizabeth. At least to this Elizabeth he would be a stranger rather than a scorned admirer. She might even accept his aid.

Georgiana was dead and his cousin had changed drastically for the worse. Was no one who was dear to him left untouched? Bingley! Even Bingley was changed if he was meeting Miss Bennet illicitly.

While Darcy was processing what he had heard, Wickham had moved off. Determined not to leave Elizabeth to his tender mercies, Darcy began to move quickly from room to room, pausing only long enough to be certain that neither Bingley nor Wickham were present. Just when he was about to give up hope, he saw Bingley accepting his coat and hat from a servant. Darcy quickly retrieved his own outerwear and followed Bingley out into the night, hoping that his friend had not already driven away. Darcy was in luck, for Bingley was of a mind to walk to his destination, and Wickham had already joined him. Apparently Wickham had influenced Bingley as well since they appeared to be laughing and easily with each other as they walked. It was rather further than Darcy would have chosen to walk through nighttime London in any season, but they all arrived without any incident.

In comparison to the house they had just left, this one was modest, but it also was home to a festive gathering. Darcy wondered about how he would gain entry, but only until he saw the door open to admit Bingley and Wickham; Clarence was acting as doorman. Thanks to Clarence, he entered without incident and began searching for Bingley, who had immediately vanished into the crowd. He had just begin to walk the perimeter of the ballroom when a familiar voice halted him in his tracks.

"Pardon me, Mr. Collins, but might I speak to my sister for a moment?"

"Of course, Cousin Elizabeth. Your sisterly affection does you both credit. I shall fetch a drink for my dearest Jane and return momentarily."

"Jane, what are you doing?"

"I was dancing with my fiancee. Surely you cannot find fault with that."

"I was not speaking of that, as you are well aware. Mr. Bingley is here. Did you agree to meet him again? Was your first liaison with him not risking enough? Have you no care for your reputation? Or for that of your sisters?"

"Do not judge me, Lizzy. I am four and twenty and it is an eligible match. Why should I not strive to give happiness and security to my dear mother?" Jane answered her sister with more sharpness than Darcy had ever heard from her before. "You cannot tell me that if it were _you_ whom Mr. Collins chose that you would not look elsewhere, even before the wedding."

"I would not have accepted him at all," Elizabeth countered.

"And so you would have condemned your family to poverty without a second thought. I merely seek to know the man I love."

"You are engaged to another, and the man you love is married."

"Married to Lady Cassandra. She sought him for his money as surely as I am accepting Mr. Collins for his."

Darcy flinched. He remembered Bingley's infatuation with Lady Cassandra quite clearly. It was only Darcy's timely warning about how desperate Lady Cassandra's financial state was that had prevented Bingley making her an offer. Apparently, in Darcy's absence, no one had stepped forward to save Bingley from her mercenary schemes. Darcy grieved for his friend; knowing how devastated he had been to learn that his 'angel' was a fortune hunter, he also knew that the pain could only have been worsened by delaying the discovery until after the wedding.

Furthermore, without Bingley's prior claim on Miss Bennet, it appeared that Mr. Collins had chosen his eldest cousin for a wife, and she had accepted for the sake of her family. Yet, for her own sake, she had decided to take a lover. It did not match with his knowledge of Miss Bennet's character.

"You did not need to accept him. You could stay with Uncle and Aunt Gardiner for a few months. Surely you are beautiful enough to attract someone less…less…"

"Uncle's business has been exceedingly poor of late, and you know they cannot afford to host me for a Season."

"His business has not been poor. He just made the mistake of trusting in Mr. Wickham enough to invest with him. And _this_ is the friend of the man you love. You are mistaken in both of them."

"The difficult of Aunt and Uncle only prove that I was correct to accept Mr. Collins for our family's security. As to Mr. Wickham's involvement, I am sure you are mistaken, Lizzy." _That sounds more like Miss Bennet,_ Darcy thought. "Mr. Wickham is very gentlemanly. Furthermore, he has shown particular interest in you. It would be a splendid match if you did not insist on insulting him at every meeting."

"He is no gentleman, Jane. He was widowed barely two months ago, it is not right that he should be paying particular attention to any woman."

"Perhaps it was an arranged marriage of little affection. You do not make allowances for differences of situation and temper."

"Regardless of his attachment to her, she was his wife and he disrespects her memory by his actions. Besides, he has no interest in _marrying _me."

"No. I do not believe you, Lizzy. I do not believe that Mr. Bingley's friend would do such a thing."

Elizabeth snorted. "No. Why should you imagine that the friends of an adulterer would not be upstanding young men?"

"My love, Cousin Elizabeth, I have returned. When you have finished your punch, cousin, may I have your hand for the next dance?"

"Why I had not—" Elizabeth began

"She will be glad to. And I shall take the opportunity to rest so that I might dance with you again later this evening." Darcy thought Jane's words would have been more convincing had she not followed her statement with a smile in Bingley's direction, but Mr. Collins failed to notice.

"My dear, what a splendid idea. I…"

Darcy took a few steps away so that he could watch Elizabeth without being forced to listen to any more prattling from the idiotic parson. How could things have gone so very, very wrong?

* * *

><p>Well, I got Darcy out of the cold, but I'm not sure this is at all better. Colonel Fitzwilliam is a rake, Bingley is trapped in a loveless marriage and is having an affair with Jane, and Wickham has made improper advances to Lizzy. It seems like the world is not a very wonderful place without Darcy, but we already knew that, didn't we?<p>

Thoughts, comments, and concrit all welcome


	3. Chapter 3

Merry Christmas to everybody. Here is part 3 of 4 for your reading pleasure. There is some violence (non-graphic) and some uncomfortable situations, but it is ultimately an uplifting chapter, I think. Enjoy, and I am sorry for the errors.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 3<strong>

Darcy watched as Elizabeth, with obvious impatience, danced with her cousin. When Bingley left the room, followed a minute later by Jane, Elizabeth followed them with her eyes but continued dancing without a hesitation or misstep. Clearly, she knew that to call attention to her sister's actions would only increase the risk of scandal. Darcy would have liked to intervene with Bingley, but Jane Bennet had made her choice; it was more important to protect Elizabeth from Wickham's unwanted advances.

There was a great impediment to his setting himself up as her protector, however: they had never been introduced and no one at this gathering could perform the office. The only plan he could come up with was to introduce himself to Mr. Collins—after all, the man had introduced himself to Darcy during Bingley's ball, so he might not be sensible of the breach of etiquette—and then beg the introduction to Elizabeth. It was not an idea he relished, but he would do much worse to keep Elizabeth from Wickham's schemes.

Unfortunately, Mr. Collins was largely unchanged from how Darcy remembered him. He accepted the introduction but then proceeded to talk at such length that Elizabeth excused herself from their company on the pretense of wishing for some fresh air. It took five minutes for Darcy to extricate himself from Mr. Collins's conversation, and another ten to locate Elizabeth. As he had feared, Wickham had found her first and had her backed into a corner on a secluded balcony.

"Do you wish your sister's actions to become known? I can arrange for them to be _accidentally_ discovered if you continue to rebuff me."

Although horrified, Darcy felt a surge of pride at her brave response, "My sister's actions are her own, and I will not consent to my own ruination to prevent the knowledge of hers."

"You would expose your sister to that shame? Are you that selfish?"

Elizabeth flinched slightly at his words, but her resolve held firm. "I do not protect her by accepting you, and even if I did I would still refuse. You, sir, disgust me and I wish nothing more to do with you!"

Wickham raised his hand to strike her, but Darcy moved faster and grasped it tightly.

"I believe the lady desires your absence," he stated evenly.

"What business is it of yours?" Wickham snarled.

"None at all, except that I would not stand back and allow any woman to be treated so ill. I suggest you leave."

"It is not your concern, and I suggest _you_ leave. You do not wish to make an enemy of me, I assure you. I could see to it that your name is never again spoken of amongst the _ton._"

Darcy laughed at the thought of Wickham spending his time and energy attempting to find a man who did not exist. Wickham, however, appeared to mistake his laughter for supreme confidence that Darcy believed himself outside of Wickham's reach. Since he had become master of Pemberley, he had delighted in the power he could wield over other people's lives, and Darcy's display of insouciance unnerved him. In a fine display of Wickham's true character, he decided to withdraw in the interest of self-preservation.

Darcy turned back to Elizabeth. "Are you well, miss?"

She was staring at him warily, and pressed herself further into the corner when Darcy took a step forward.

"Have no fear, I will not harm you. And no word of this will pass my lips ever again. I only wish to be certain that you are unharmed." It took considerable control for Darcy to refrain from embracing her to offer comfort, but he knew his Elizabeth well enough to be certain she would not accept such familiarity from a stranger. He stepped back to his original position, allowing her the space she desired.

She relaxed somewhat at his words and actions and managed to reply, "I am well, thanks to your timely intervention. I must take my leave, however. You do not know what he is capable of, and I must make haste."

A commotion arose inside, and Elizabeth paled. He just heard her quiet, yet desperate plea, "Please, God, no," as she pushed past him and ran into the house. He followed quickly and found that Wickham had made good on his threat of exposure. Jane, her dress awry and her coiffure completely destroyed, stood in the center of a growing crowd being shouted at by Mr. Collins. The irritating parson was justifiably furious at being deceived and did not care who knew it. Instead of whisking his fiancé away and dealing with the affair in private, he was making a fool of Miss Bennet and himself. The terrible insults he shouted at his erstwhile fiancé made the ladies in the crowed gasp and Elizabeth duck her head in an attempt to remain unseen. It was with supreme relief that Darcy saw Mrs. Gardiner rushing toward them.

"Elizabeth, come quickly, we must leave at once. Your uncle will deal with Jane. Come"

Darcy followed at a discreet distance and thus was in a position to intervene when Mr. Wickham accosted them. He stood directly in between them and their carriage boldly preventing their escape

"Tell me now, _Elizabeth_," he drawled, placing special emphasis on her Christian name, "was it worth it? No respectable man will have you now, but perhaps I might be persuaded to—" He stopped speaking when Darcy stepped forward standing protectively between Wickham and Elizabeth.

"I believe I told you earlier to leave the lady alone."

Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner took advantage of Darcy's presence to move toward the carriage. Darcy maintained his position between them and Wickham, preventing any advances. Incensed by once again being denied his object, and more than likely made unwise by too much drink, Wickham lashed out at Darcy. The fight was fierce but brief, and the two men separated each breathing heavily and nursing several bruises. Darcy was glad to see that Elizabeth had made use of the diversion to flee with her aunt.

"When I find out who you are, I will see to it that you are ruined!" Wickham repeated his earlier threat.

"I wish you the best of luck, Mr. Wickham." Darcy bowed, again finding amusement in the idea of Wickham chasing after ghosts and rumors.

Wickham stalked off into the night, muttering imprecations against Darcy. One look at the footmen now guarding the door and Darcy knew he would not be allowed inside, not even to collect his hat and coat, so he began walking in the opposite direction

As he once again entered Hyde Park, Darcy realized that he was no better off now than he had been at the beginning of the evening. He was once again without a coat or gloves, and lacking the resources necessary to secure lodging for the night. All he had was the watch and ring that he did not recognize. "Clarence?" Darcy kept his voice at a conversational tone, convinced that the angel could hear him, but no response came. "Clarence? I wish to go back. Whatever mistakes I made, it is better to struggle with fixing them than to face this life, I can see that now. Please, I wish to see my sister again. I will speak to Bingley and tell him all, I promise. Clarence? Please, can you not change the world back to the way it was?"

Knowing that sitting still would only cause him to grow colder more quickly, Darcy kept moving. When he thought there was no one near enough to overhear, he would call out for Clarence, but he never received an answer. As the brisk wind continued to leach the heat from his body, he lost track of his location within the Park, and he could not quite muster the energy to care. All he wanted was to go back to the life he knew and the people he loved.

Darcy did not know how long he had been walking or how far he had come when he finally gave in to fatigue. He was in a part of Hyde Park that was fairly open, and he thought he might be able to rest there for a while without the risk of anyone catching him unaware. It was not as if he intended to sleep, after all. He simply wished to sit for a few minutes. He attempted to warm his hands with his breath, then tucked them under his arms and settled onto a bench. The next thing he knew, he was startled away by a rough voice addressing him.

"Well, well. What have we here? What's the likes of you doing outside on a night like this, rich man?"

If the man's speech was not overtly threatening, his appearance, what little he could see in the faint moonlight, was enough to thoroughly alarm Darcy. His first reaction was to get to his feet, but he was prevented from rising by the man's accomplice, who was standing behind him.

"Now, now, rich man, don't go running off. We were just getting to know each other," the second man spoke directly in Darcy's ear causing a shiver to run down his spine.

The two men continued to talk, mostly to each other, occasionally directing a few words at him, but never requiring a response. Darcy sat watching them warily, hoping for an opportunity to flee. In truth, however, he did not know if his frozen muscles would carry him very quickly. Nevertheless, he waited for a moment when they were each facing the other and took off as swiftly as he was able.

It was not fast enough, and the two men overtook him easily. No longer in the mood to amuse themselves with simply taunting him, they got straight to the business of subduing him instead. When it became clear to him that he was overpowered, he curled up tightly and did his best to absorb the kicks without crying out. Eventually, when they were satisfied with his passivity, they ceased their attack.

One man held him down while the other began rummaging through his pockets. Suddenly, he felt the questing hands cease, and a moment later the restraining weight of the other man was removed from him. A few indistinct noises followed, but Darcy paid more attention to attempting to regain his feet.

"Easy there, Darcy. Sit back a moment."

Hands were once again pressing him down, but this time they were gentle. Darcy surrendered, closing his eyes as he waited for the pain to subside. "Bingley, I believe I'll need some assistance getting him home. He's in quite a state."

Finally, Darcy managed to put a name to the voice. Under other conditions he might have been pleased to see his cousin, but not this night. Not when his cousin had become Wickham's protégé. "Samuel? Did Wickham send you?" He attempted to sit but could not shake the firm grip on his shoulders.

"What? No! Wickham is in Newcastle." Samuel's voice then changed from surprised to soothing while he resisted Darcy's continued attempts to escape his grasp, "Easy, Darcy. All is well. Just relax a moment."

Darcy's eyes widened upon hearing his name—he had not registered the import the first time Samuel spoke it. For the first time, Darcy took in his cousin's appearance. Samuel was kneeling beside him looking concerned. And he was wearing his regimentals! "You know me? Samuel, do you know who I am?" He focused next on Bingley, kneeling at his other side, "Bingley, do you know me now as well?"

"Perhaps he received a knock on the head," Samuel suggested to Bingley. "Yes, Darcy, we know you. Why else would be out at night in the dead of winter scouring Hyde Park for you? You just stormed out of the room and when nobody could find you, Georgiana summoned me to Darcy house and commanded Bingley and I to organize a search. She is nearly hysterical with worry over your safety. That, however, is a discussion for another time. Now, as you do not seem to be seriously injured, I think it is time that we get you home. We shall just worry over what prompted your idiocy later."

Working together, Samuel and Bingley managed to get Darcy to his feet. He was badly bruised and would be sore for the next few days, but there was nothing that stopped him from walking, slowly and with a shoulder to lean on, back to his home under his own power.

The walk to Darcy House took nearly half an hour. Shortly after they set out, Darcy began to shiver. Bingley removed his greatcoat and helped Darcy into it, and Colonel Fitzwilliam handed Darcy his gloves. Both items were much appreciated but, even with them, by the time they arrived at their destination, Darcy's fingers were stiff with cold and he could no longer feel his toes.

"William!" Georgiana had been pacing the foyer awaiting their return, and she ran forward the instant she saw her brother. When she took in how heavily Darcy was leaning on Bingley's shoulder he stopped short of embracing him. "He is hurt! I shall have Mrs. Simon send for the physician."

Before she could so much as turn away, she found herself caught in a tight embrace. "Forgive me, Georgiana," Darcy murmured into her hair. He might have said more, but emotion had tightened his throat. For the last few hours, Georgiana had been dead, after having lived several terrible months as George Wickham's wife and spending years as his ward. He hugged his sister tighter, unspeakably thankful that she had been spared that fate.

"It is all forgotten," Georgiana said soothingly. "I was so worried for you, but the important thing is that you are safe now. But you must be frozen. Come, sit by the fire and I will order a bath for you."

Darcy realized that Georgiana thought he was apologizing for disappearing, but he did not correct her. How could he explain what had happened in the past few hours without sounding as though he had completely lost his wits. Instead, he submitted to her coddling and soon found himself seated in front of a roaring fire wrapped in blankets and cradling a cup of tea in his hands.

Colonel Fitzwilliam took his leave several minutes later after assuring himself of his cousin's health. Bingley also excused himself, repairing to his chamber and leaving the siblings alone. Neither Darcy nor Georgiana said much, despite their privacy. Each was simply pleased to have the other nearby. When Darcy's valet entered twenty minutes later to announce that his bath was ready, Georgiana declared that she would retire for the night as well.

Darcy accepted his valet's help in undressing for his bath and immersed himself in the hot water gratefully. He leaned back, intending to close his eyes and simply enjoy the sensation of warmth, but his valet's movements caught his eye. Keller was removing his watch from the fob pocket. Darcy's eyes dropped to his ring. He had not thought to check earlier, but it was his signet ring with the Darcy seal. It must have been restored without his noticing, just as his place in the world had been. Wishing to be absolutely certain, Darcy requested Keller bring him his watch. Yes, his watch was back as well. He opened the case to read the inscription, and out fell a single petal of lavender. Even the crushed flower had been returned to his pocket.

Darcy handed the watch back to Keller. Everything about his life was now as it had been at the start of the day, even his mistakes. Darcy leaned against the back of the tub with a sigh; he had promised to amend his errors, now he only needed to determine _how._

* * *

><p>There. It's on the way to being fixed. The last chapter will be posted on Tuesday, I think. Happy holidays everybody and let me know what you're thinking.<em><br>_


	4. Chapter 4

Wow, sorry. Even with the chapter written, I couldn't find the time for one last edit and a posting in the last few days. Well, I'm home and relaxing now, so here you go. I hope you enjoy the conclusion to my little Christmas tale.

**Part 4**

Although Darcy knew that men's fashions were not designed to conceal injuries, it was an office they performed well. Except for a spot on his jaw and two knuckles on his right hand, the remainder of the bruises Darcy had obtained during the misadventure of the previous day were hidden. He was unable to disguise the fact that he was very sore, however. His every movement, from walking down stairs to picking up his coffee cup was cautious and stiff.

It would be several days, at least, before he could be in company again, especially if he did not wish to answer awkward questions. It had been difficult enough explaining his absence to Bingley and Georgiana over breakfast. He did not wish to lie, but neither could he tell the entire truth. He settled for an abridged version explaining his foul mood and his desire for solitude and ending with him becoming lost in Hyde Park and being attacked. The houses he had visited and all of his interactions with their counterparts in that strange reality were completely left out. The occurrences he omitted were so bizarre that he doubted there would be any questions that would force him to prevaricate.

Bingley left the house to spend Christmas day with his sisters and Mr. Hurst, and Darcy and Georgiana departed for dinner with their Fitzwilliam relations. Since Georgiana had sent an urgent note to Samuel when Darcy had failed to return the previous evening, he assumed they would all be curious as to what had happened. It was therefore completely unexpected that they showed only minimal curiosity and that their questions were about the 'accident' that had left him bruised.

Immediately after they had all greeted each other, Samuel drew him aside to explain. The note had been delivered with little fanfare, the messenger having been well trained in discretion on his master's behalf. As a result, Samuel had been able to invent a less drastic tale including a minor spill that scared Georgiana but caused no more than bruises. Darcy thanked his cousin profusely, and promised to meet with him the next day to explain more fully.

Beyond that brief discussion, the evening held little that could be of interest to someone outside the family. There was conversation, teasing, singing, playing, parlor games, and the exchange of gifts. There were even a few well-worn disagreements, as often happens in family gatherings. Darcy paid no heed to the mundanities that might otherwise have irritated him; he was so overwhelmed with gratefulness for being given his life back that he failed to notice anything other than those things that increased his pleasure in the evening.

The next morning was mostly taken up with speaking with his cousin. Samuel was told essentially the same story that Bingley and Georgiana had heard, however he was more curious as to what prompted Darcy's actions. Though he was loath to expose his weakness to anyone, including his cousin, Darcy did explain some of the errors in judgment he had recently made. The only thing he did not relate was what exactly was the nature of his interaction with Bingley; Darcy felt that Bingley had the right to be the first to know that information.

By the time Samuel took his leave, Darcy was emotionally exhausted, but he knew there was still much to be done. It might not be possible for him to appear in public for another week or so because of his bruised jaw, but that did not mean that he must sit idle. He intended to see Bingley and Miss Bennet reunited and to make an attempt to win Miss Elizabeth's heart.

The first order of business was penning a note to Mr. Gardiner. Darcy did not know exactly how much the real world mirrored his experience the other night, but he hoped it was considerable. That would mean that that the Gardiners and Bennets would be in London for the holiday, and he intended to take advantage of that. Although there had never been any expectation of correspondence between them once Mrs. Wickham's elopement had been successfully resolved, Darcy began his note with an apology for having been a poor correspondent. Then he extended an invitation for them to come to Darcy house for dinner.

As he had hoped, the reply he received was a politely worded demurral stating that their Bennet relations were visiting. Darcy grinned as he penned the return note insisting that the Bennets be invited as well stating that he would be pleased to renew their acquaintance. This letter got the much-desired response, and Darcy was smiling broadly when he informed his housekeeper of the dinner he would be hosting in a week.

Georgiana was somewhat worried about hosting the entire Bennet family, and of course she was concerned that she would be unable to respond appropriately when the subject of Mr. and Mrs. Wickham was raised, as Darcy strongly suspected it would be. Instead of focusing on her apprehension, however, she chose to concentrate her thoughts on the pleasure she would receive from renewing her acquaintance with the Gardiners and Miss Elizabeth.

It was more difficult for Darcy to initiate the necessary conversation with Bingley. He asked the butler to notify him when Bingley returned from his fencing club—an outing Darcy had been forced to forgo because of his injuries. Bingley joined Darcy in his study an hour later.

"You wished to talk to me? Are you unwell?"

"No, I am well. I only have some news for you. . . and an apology."

"Whatever for? Two nights ago? That is all forgotten; you owe me no apology for that."

"No, for something else entirely." Darcy sighed heavily, "I hardly know where to begin."

"Why do you not begin with the news? Since I cannot imagine your offence is that great, I believe the apology can wait."

"The two are related, but it shall be as you wish. I am having a small dinner party next week. I expect eight guests, all of whom you are acquainted with. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, who you met at Pemberley last summer will be coming," Darcy paused for a deep breath, "and their Bennet relations, save for the youngest daughter who is lately married."

Bingley looked startled, then pained, and finally composed his expression into a mask of neutrality. "You need not worry about me, Darcy. I am resigned to the fact that Miss Bennet never cared for me."

"And thus we come to the topic of my apology. I believe, no I _know_, that I was mistaken last fall in my appraisal of Miss Bennet's attachment to you. I cannot speak for her feelings at this moment, but I have been told that when we departed Hertfordshire, she returned your affection."

"What!" Bingley's mouth opened and shut several times, but no sound emerged. It took him several moments to find his voice again, and when he did, he spoke in an eerie calm. "How did you come by this information?"

Darcy walked across the room and poured two glasses of wine. He anticipated this being a difficult conversation and preferred to have a focus for his nervous energy; holding a wine glass would serve his purpose admirably. He twirled the stem between thumb and forefinger as he spoke. "You are aware that I was in Kent last Easter? Well, what I did not tell you was that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was there as well, visiting her friend Mrs. Collins, whom you knew as Miss Lucas.

"My behavior to Miss Elizabeth was not so very different than it was while I was in Hertfordshire, and, to be brief, we had a row. In addition to informing me of my numerous failings, she accused me of separating you from her sister saying I had knowingly ruined her sister's chance of happiness and exposed her to derision for her disappointed hopes."

Bingley paled considerably. "Is it true?" he asked quietly. "Did you seek to prevent my attachment to Ja—Miss Bennet?"

It took considerable effort for Darcy to meet Bingley's eyes as he said, "At the time, I did not believe her to return your affection. In terms of fortune and connections you could have made a better match, but had I believed her to be sincerely attached to you, I would like to think I would not have objected."

"You are not certain?" A touch of terseness colored his tone now.

Darcy hung his head. "I am not. I do not believe my observations to have been biased, but I cannot deny the possibility that they were. I desired nothing more than to leave Hertfordshire to escape my own attraction to Miss Elizabeth. Fate, however, saw fit to continue to throw us in each other's paths first in Kent and then again at Pemberley."

There was another pause and then, "You have known since April? Why did you not tell me? I might have remedied the situation! I doubt she'll have me now, after having received no word from me for over a year!"

"It is worse even than that, Bingley. She was in London last winter and visited your sisters. At the time, I still believed my judgment to be correct and I thought it best not to inform you lest you be further pained by her proximity."

"You—You thought—I hardly know what to say to you!" Bingley paced the length of study one or two times before stopping in front of Darcy. "It is not right that the first time she sees me will be in such a large party. Do you know where she is staying?"

Darcy nodded and wrote out the direction. "What do you intend to do?"

"I shall call on her immediately. If she no longer desires my company I will not be attending dinner that evening."

"I _am_ sorry, Bingley."

Bingley's shoulders slumped and his anger seemed to dissipate for a moment. "I know, Darcy. I know you meant well, but I cannot forgive you yet; I am too angry. If you were not still suffering from the other night, I might have been tempted to . . .but that is of no matter." Suddenly, an idea seemed to take hold in Bingley's mind, and he straightened up. "This is the reason you left the house that night? And why you have been so much quieter than usual recently?"

Darcy nodded morosely.

Bingley gave a mirthless chuckle. "I think you have suffered more at your own hand than you would from any injury I might inflict. Mind you, I am still angry, and I will likely continue to be so for some time if Miss Bennet turns me away, but now I have less of an urge to strike you. I will talk to you when I return."

"Bingley, wait!" Darcy called as his friend walked out of his study. Bingley returned to the doorway but did not reenter the room. "It is nearly time for dinner. Perhaps you should defer your call until a more proper time, say tomorrow morning?"

This actually prompted a small smile from Bingley, though it vanished quickly. "Well, in this case I must admit that your advice is sound. I shall take a tray in my room this evening. Please make my excuses to Miss Darcy."

"Good evening," Darcy replied, adding softy, "my friend."

The week before the dinner party passed by somehow managing to do so too quickly while at the same time dragging interminably for Darcy. The first day Bingley had called on the Gardiners, he had been warmly welcomed, but this welcome came not from Miss Bennet but Mrs. Bennet. The woman had absolutely no concept of subtlety, and try as she might, Mrs. Gardiner could not temper her sister's behavior. A year ago he had been so enraptured with Jane that he had taken no notice, but now he could not fail to see that every word from Mrs. Bennet's mouth caused Jane more distress. By the end of the visit he almost thought it would be kinder to Jane to not return than it would be to continue to subject her to the kind of mortification she obviously experienced at her mother's hand. He could not tell if Jane's silence was due solely to her mother's vulgarity, a desire to be out of his company, or another cause altogether.

Bingley related the entire visit to Darcy, who wisely kept his own counsel save for on one point: he suggested that Bingley propose walking out with Miss Bennet and one or two of her sisters so that he might have a chance to know the lady's thoughts when not in her mother's presence. Darcy's idea was employed the next day, and once again Bingley came home completely disheartened. Jane had told him that she had loved him, and she claimed to love him still, but she was unable to trust in his constancy. She was not averse to receiving his calls, but it was clear to Bingley that this second courtship would be much more difficult than the first.

Bingley was only able to call on Miss Bennet once more in the week before the dinner. It was a source of some displeasure to Bingley that he could not call daily without a formal courtship, and that she would not agree to a courtship until she felt she knew him better. She claimed it was her desire to know him better, but how could he believe her when she then denied him the opportunity to visit frequently? It took some time, but Darcy managed to convince Bingley that Miss Bennet merely wanted time to be certain of him before making _any_ kind of public announcement. Bingley grumbled that she had been sure of him before Darcy interfered but allowed the subject to rest. In fact, Darcy's willingness to support him in this endeavor did a great deal to mend their friendship. Their relationship would never be what it had been, but both men had grown as a result of their experiences.

The day of the dinner arrived, and the anticipation nearly drove Darcy to distraction. He did not bother himself with obsessing over the dinner arrangements themselves—he trusted his staff to see to it that everything would be as he had requested—but he could focus on nothing other than the fact that he would be seeing Elizabeth again that evening. He hoped that the bruises on his jaw and knuckles had faded enough that they would pass unnoticed, or be mistaken for a shadow. As for his other injuries, the only one that still caused him any pain was to his shoulder; he could not reach or lift much weight with his right arm, so he would have to be cautious in his movements.

The Gardiners and Bennets arrived in good time. Mrs. Bennet appeared to be in awe of her surroundings and unable to speak beyond a few words, so the introductions proceeded with less fuss than Darcy had expected. Once that office was performed, Darcy allowed his gaze to settle on Elizabeth. He had looked forward to this moment for some time, and while she was even lovelier than he remembered, he could not but feel disappointment at her greeting. She was polite but distant, her manner reminiscent of their interactions in Hertfordshire and Kent more than their meeting at Pemberley. He had not expected warmth, that was unlikely after the circumstances precipitating her sudden departure from Lambton and several months with no communication, but he had hoped for some indication that she thought kindly of him. Could it be that Elizabeth blamed him—as he blamed himself—for not warning the neighborhood about Wickham?

Darcy pondered the matter as he led his guests to the parlor for drinks. After everyone had been served, he took a moment to observe his guests. Bingley had led Miss Bennet to a pair of seats somewhat removed from the rest of the party. She seemed to be pleased with his conversation, which Darcy thought boded well for Bingley's attempts to win his lady's favor. As he expected, Georgiana was seated near Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth. Mr. Bennet was sitting with Mr. Gardiner, the former watching his family with a sardonic eye, much as he had done on every other occasion when Darcy had been in his presence. Judging by his frequent glances in her direction and the slight smiles that accompanied them, he seemed particularly amused by his wife's awed silence. Mrs. Bennet was seated with Misses Mary and Catherine. Miss Mary appeared to be bored, and Mrs. Bennet and Miss Catherine were both staring openly at the room's furnishings.

As Darcy watched, Mrs. Bennet recovered her voice sufficiently to nudge Miss Catherine sharply and whisper loudly enough that Darcy could hear, "You must go and make friends with Miss Darcy. She is of an age with you, and if you become friends she will surely be in a position to introduce you to all of Mr. Darcy's rich friends. Lizzy will only waste this opportunity yet again—she did not even correspond with Miss Darcy after meeting her in Derbyshire! Go, and make what you can of it."

A glance around the room showed that everyone save Miss Bennet and Bingley had heard. Mr. Bennet looked amused, Miss Mary offended, Gardiners embarrassed, and Elizabeth absolutely mortified. Why did Mr. Bennet not say something? How could a father and head of a household be so perfectly content to watch his wife humiliate herself and her daughter? Oh, how Darcy wished to have the authority—and the privilege—to intercede on Elizabeth's behalf!

Miss Catherine, looking hesitant but displaying no sensibility of the impropriety that had just occurred, made her way over to a seat near Georgiana. The self-satisfied smile on Mrs. Bennet's face as she watched made Darcy even angrier. It was fortunate, then, that Mr. Gardiner chose the next moment to join his host and strike up a conversation. Meanwhile, Mrs. Gardiner moved to Mrs. Bennet's side and managed to prevent any further outbursts.

For the remainder of the time before dinner, Darcy talked with Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet. He attended the conversation as best he could, but he could not prevent himself from looking frequently in Elizabeth's direction. Once or twice, he thought he caught her stealing glances at him as well, but he could not be certain. Darcy would have loved to speak with Elizabeth, to assure himself that she had recovered from the embarrassment at her mother's hands and to attempt to gauge her feelings toward him. Unfortunately, there was no opportunity for them to speak.

In Darcy's opinion, the seating at dinner left much to be desired. Although the invitation had been issued to Mrs. Gardiner, protocol dictated that he seat Mrs. Bennet at his right, as she was the highest ranked woman present. This was unlikely to be pleasant for either of them, and he might have abandoned protocol for this meal had he not felt it impossible to seat Mrs. Bennet near Georgiana. There was some hope for rational conversation, however, as on his other side was Mr. Gardiner, and next to him Elizabeth. It would be difficult for Darcy to speak directly to her, but they might participate in the same general conversation. Mrs. Bennet was seated next to Miss Mary, and soon found that she had no willing ear for her rambling pronouncements and gossip. Although she was unable to be completely silent, she was not quite as vociferous as she might have been otherwise, for which Darcy was grateful.

During the first course, Mrs. Bennet admonished Elizabeth several times for joining in the conversation Darcy was sharing with Mr. Gardiner on happenings in Parliament. "It is unseemly for a young woman to speak on such matters," she scolded in what she probably thought was a hushed tone. She ceased her vocal protestations when Darcy assured her that he enjoyed hearing Miss Elizabeth's opinions, but she continued to send dark looks in the direction of her second daughter whenever Elizabeth spoke. Other than slight blushes, Elizabeth ignored her mother's behavior and continued to speak when with the gentlemen. Darcy was not willing to call this a positive sign, however, as Elizabeth was still unfailingly formal when addressing him and more often than not directed her comments to her uncle.

The first two courses passed by as smoothly as might be expected with such a mixed company. By the third course, Mrs. Bennet had apparently tired of a conversation in which she had no part and decided to change the subject. Her words and tone left no doubt that she held no great love for Mr. Darcy.

"I wonder that you have not asked after your acquaintances in Hertfordshire, Mr. Darcy. It was one of the first things Mr. Bingley spoke of when he came to call on my Jane."

Elizabeth blushed scarlet. Darcy's hopes lifted when she sent him an apologetic look; if Elizabeth was displaying sympathy toward him, it was likely that she did not entirely dislike him. He could not assure Elizabeth that her mother's words were inconsequential, for Mrs. Bennet had launched immediately into a narrative of all the changes that had taken place in the neighborhood in the last year.

". . .and my youngest is married now, and settled in Newcastle, as I am sure Mr. Bingley informed you. A _friend _of Mr. Wickham's was good enough to purchase a commission for him, seeing as he had been denied his true place in the church." He tone was sharp and would have carried to the other end of the table even had her words not been spoken during a general lull in conversation.

Mr. Gardiner, Elizabeth and Miss Bennet, who was separated from her mother by two people, all tried to interrupt the flow of words, but Mrs. Bennet, like her youngest daughter, rarely heard that which she did not wish to hear. "I daresay Mr. and Mrs. Wickham shall manage well enough despite the hardships that have been inflicted upon him."

Georgiana had grown very pale then flushed red with anger at this last sentence. She stood abruptly, drawing even Mrs. Bennet's attention, and looked as though she might speak. Should Georgiana open her mouth, Darcy thought that tears or an angry outburst were equally likely to result. Instead of either, Georgiana took several deep breaths and mastered herself enough to force out a polite excuse and flee the room. Darcy stayed long enough to convince Mr. Gardiner that he need not depart, and then excused himself on the pretense of making certain that his sister had not taken ill.

A footman directed Darcy to the music room, where instead of finding his sister playing or even searching through music in preparation to do so, he found her pacing the room much as he did when he was irritated. "I was upset by hearing Mr. Wickham's name again, but I should have borne it had she not insulted you so egregiously." Darcy managed to calm her somewhat, insisting that he had made a very poor impression on Mrs. Bennet when they first met, and that he did not take offence. Several minutes later, it was decided that Darcy would inform the guests that Georgiana had a sudden headache and had retired for the evening.

Darcy had intended to return directly to his guests, but the sight of Elizabeth departing the dining room arrested his progress. "Miss Elizabeth, is something wrong?"

"No, I had only thought to see if I might apologize to Miss Darcy. My mother does not know what Mr. Wickham is. And none in my family, save the Gardiners and myself, know what you did for us. Please allow me to thank you on their behalf."

"Miss Darcy is well, but she judged it best to retire for the evening. I shall tell her you asked after her. And as to that other matter, no thanks are necessary. I only corrected a situation that resulted from my own inaction. It was my responsibility, and I could not ignore it."

"Mr. Wickham's actions have _never_ been your responsibility any more than my sister's are. My family is in your debt."

"If you _will _thank me, let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny, but your _family_ owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of _you_." He desperately wished to continue, to tell her that he still loved her and ask whether there was any hope that his suit might one day be successful, but her behavior that evening stayed his tongue. She had not given him any encouragement, and while he would continue to attempt to earn her favor, he would not declare himself again until he was reasonably certain that she returned his affections at least in part.

"False flattery does not suit you, sir."

"False? You think so little of my constancy?"

"What else am I to think? When Mr. Wickham became my brother, I knew I must abandon any hope. I know your every feeling must revolt at the thought of associating with Mr. Wickham's sister."

"I ask you to consider, would I have invited your family to my home if I despised your connection to Wickham as much as you believe?"

"The invitation was issued to the Gardiners."

"I had no knowledge of your family being in town or your family would have been included in the original invitation. When I learned that you were here, I was most pleased to extend the invitation to your family as well, that I might have the opportunity to see you again.

"If you so desired to see me, why did you not call with Mr. Bingley?"

"I wished to, but I could not. I was . . .indisposed."

"While ill, you made the decision to host a dinner party?"

"I was not ill."

"You were indisposed but not ill," Elizabeth shook her head. "Which am I to believe, sir?"

Frustrated, but wishing to make his point, Darcy turned his head slightly to the side and indicated the still sore spot on his jaw. "Earlier this week, this was a rather vivid shade of blue. I was in no condition to be seen in public, much less to pay court to a young lady."

He had closed his eyes in frustration, but they opened again when he felt her hand on his jaw. Even with the barrier of her gloves, the warmth of her touch heated him through.

"Forgive me, I did not know."

"You could not have known. You were correct in any case; I should have called sooner. I was a coward; I thought you must despise me and could not face another rejection, so I stayed away. My indulgent self-pity served only to make those around me uncomfortable. I have begged their forgiveness, and now I beg yours." Her hand was still touching his jaw and he covered it with his own. "My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever. Could you love a man as foolish as me?"

"Could you love a headstrong woman with a tendency to leap to the worst conclusions? Our union would not be a peaceful one."

"No, but it would be a _passionate_ one."

"We have been absent from dinner for longer than is wise," Elizabeth observed. Stung by her apparent rejection Darcy took a step back. She continued, however, with a slight smile, "This is a fascinating topic, though, worthy of much discussion. Perhaps we might continue our conversation tomorrow after you have spoken with my father."

"I should be delighted."

Darcy knew it would not be simple, but he was resolved never to falter as he had done. As they walked back to the dining room, Darcy noticed a sprig of lavender and a small stone sitting together on a decorative table. He reached out and brushed them both with the tips of his fingers. "Thank you, Clarence."

See, all better. Thank you for reading my Christmas themed flight of fancy. Let me know what you think.


End file.
